Life and Death in Volterra
by SulpiciaDoesntApprove
Summary: Volturi-centric drabble series.
1. Didyme's doll

_**Author's note: These are all 100 word drabbles written on the Volturi.**_

_**Aro is first.**_

**Aro POV**

Sometimes, when he was as little less bubbly and happy than usual, a thought crossed his mind. A memory. And it was his own.

A little girl with thick raven hair and vibrant green eyes running up to him.

"Look. Dide made foh yuu."

The doll had been sewed together poorly with one arm almost falling off, but it hadn't mattered. He had lifted her up, tossed her up in the air joyfully and her innocent smile had been as dazzling as his.

The doll had rotten away a long time ago.

And then he pushed the thought aside again.


	2. Twilight over Tuscany

_**Aaaaaand…. here comes Alec.**_

**Alec POV**

The sun was setting, the moon rising. The potent smell of rosemary and the chirping of cicadas lingered in the air. A few last beams of warm sunlight glinted from the brick-red roofs, caressed the rough old stonewalls but they didn't reach his small frame, for he was standing in the shadows.

Not lurking, just thinking and knowing that it wasn't the first sunset, nor would it be the last.

"What a pity," he thought.

To never grow up and not see Neverland either. To never feel the sun warm his skin up.

And to know that fairies didn't exist.


	3. Little girl

_**You can read this as Jane being difficult. Or, if you're like me, as Aro/Jane.**_

**Sulpicia POV**

"What a silly evil little girl," she thought to herself, "always moping and sulking and tormenting others." And she shook her head, uncomprehending and ignorant, and stretched her long, creamy arms.

Lying there on her velvet couch, she didn't grasp the bitterness within the little girl's angelic features.

Being tall and beautiful, she wasn't able to see the envy behind the little girl's disrespectful words.

Having someone who loved her, she couldn't feel the loneliness in the little girl's burning gaze.

There was no way she could know what was going on inside the woman's mind inside the little girl.


	4. The ones who have power

_**You just gotta love Caius! **_

_**Please review!**_

**Caius POV**

He sighed. His powdery, claw-like hands rested on the arm of his throne and his milky eyes wandered sluggishly from one wall to another.

What happened to all the fights, the struggles for power, the schemes? Life was rather boring nowadays. Existence, anyway.

Maybe that's the point, he mused. How boring, when the only person you had to fear was yourself. Expansion was uninteresting when you already had everything. And there was no thrill in plotting when failure couldn't threaten your life, let alone your soul.

He sighed again, a whisper that barely escaped his chalky lips.

How boring indeed.


	5. Ties

_**We never got to know about Afton.**_

**Chelsea POV**

Every day was the same. They just passed by and by, the days. The nights too. Until they turned into a blur of light and darkness, all mixed together. She had lost count. It didn't matter to her.

"Tie them," she was ordered. And she did.

Day after day. Decade after decade. Century after Century. And they all blurred and mixed together.

"Afton," he said. She wanted to touch the dimples on his friendly face and his burgundy eyes were the most beautiful she had ever seen.

And she tied him to herself, not caring if he felt the same.


	6. Sleeping Beauty

_**Lots of Jane angst ahead.**_

**Jane POV**

She felt oddly tired.

Not tired like those inferior humans she didn't dare to envy. No, it was different.

She was weary. Disillusioned and disenchanted. It was a heartbreaking numbness that grew with every single day of eternity. She couldn't help it.

She felt like she could sleep for a hundred years and still be tired. And the thorns would enwind her bed steadily, and they would overgrow her dead cold heart too.

Sleeping Beauty. How she had loved that fairytale once! Now it only seemed to mock her cruelly.

Because her prince would never come to kiss her awake.


	7. The deer

_**Eleazar is giving some fatal advice….**_

**Eleazar POV**

"What's your name child?" his master asked.

She looked up at him instead. Scared and slightly bewildered. Her face plain, her big brown eyes like the ones of a deer caught in the headlights.

"Renata," came the low, hesitant answer.

She hadn't talked before. And every time somebody had tried to touch her she had pulled away, wincing. Hiding inside herself. The only defense the deer had against her hunter.

He didn't understand back then. If he only had.

He saw confusion. More than that, he saw talent.

Aro was looking at him expectantly. As a response, he nodded once.


	8. Death and the Maiden

_**Writing drabbles is fun!**_

**Heidi POV**

"Don't go out alone that late", her mother had warned.

But she liked to dance. Dance, laugh and live like there was no tomorrow.

"Those who cherish dancing and drinking and other sinful things will go to hell," her mother had raised her index finger angrily.

Hell, what was hell to her? She was pretty and young and full of life.

It was only about half an hour up the mountain to the house she lived in with her mother and two younger brothers.

"You're young and beautiful and full of life," the stranger said. She hadn't seen him coming.


	9. Deep grey

_**Nobody ever listens to Marcus.... *shakes head***_

_**Please review!**_

**Marcus POV**

His world was really quite simple. He sat there in the grey shadows, only watching. Always watching.

Since the meaning of his life had ceased to be there were only four colors left.

Red for hate.

Green for power.

Blue for loyalty.

Grey for love.

Tragic, indeed. He who had lost his one true love had to see love every day.

Deep Grey. He had showed him. The only effect it had had was that Aro now tried hard to avoid touching him whenever possible. Refusing to believe it. Stubborn, just like Didyme had been.

"Didyme, my love" he sighed.


	10. This is farewell

_**Yes, Alec is one of my favorites.**_

**Alec POV**

Darkness. Everything was so dark. But while he was blindfolded, his other senses were still there. He could feel her clutch at him desperately, could hear her muffled sobs. He held her small hand tightly in his.

He could also hear them. Shouting and encouraging each other. Cheering. It made him sick to his stomach.

He could smell wood in the air. Burning wood. The smell grew stronger.

They took her away first. She was screaming and kicking and biting, but all to no avail.

Their fingers brushed against each other for one last time and then she was gone.


	11. Only five days

_**Oh, Didyme, you are naïve.**_

**Marcus POV**

"Don't be silly," she said, nudging his nose playfully, "it's no more than five days."

His lips curved into a smile, being unhappy around this joyful woman was simply impossible.

It was just that he would miss her. A lot. Her beautiful smile, her loving embrace, her witty, talkative nature. Five days without her seemed like an eternity to him.

"Go have fun. Kill some newborns for me," she encouraged him.

Still smirking, she threw her arms around his neck and played absentmindedly with a lock of his dark hair.

"Besides, my dear brother will take good care of me."


	12. Shallow

_**This one is about Athenodora before she is turned into a vampire. By Caius. Or by someone else? Don't ask me, I'm just the writer!**_

_**A writer that likes reviews. *hinthint***_

**Athenodora POV**

Her hands trembled and she knew he saw it.

She couldn't bear to look up. Didn't dare to face those red soulless eyes.

He was a monster.

Oh, he was beautiful. His strong, chiseled jaw and straight prominent nose had lured her in. And the way he seemed to be floating whenever he moved…

But he was a monster. A soulless evil demon, risen from her own personal hell.

Oh, she had been shallow! She had had everything, but it hadn't been enough for her. And when she had seen him….

Now she was going to pay for her vanity.


	13. Mortal

_**This is Demetri's story.**_

**Demetri POV**

Fighting was his passion, killing his daily work and pursuit his biggest talent. He knew no mercy and his plans never failed. War was his trade.

And he was extraordinary good at it too.

At the age of twenty-eight he already held the rank of a commander in the Macedonian army. He led his men and himself from victory to victory.

When he got the order to conquer the last fort of a group of rebels deep in the shady mountains in the north of the kingdom, he didn't waste a thought on defeat.

They were only mortal, weren't they?


	14. Dirty hands

_**Aro + Didyme = Tragedy.**_

_**Reviews are awesome**__**!**_

**Aro POV**

Her eyes, huge and disbelieving. She just kept on staring at him.

Her wrists, small and fragile in his. She didn't stand a chance. She could have tried to fight him, but she didn't. Because she had trusted him.

She didn't even scream when he tore piece from piece, limb from limb. Fast and accurate. Her mouth just stayed the same, slightly open in surprise.

When the fire had died down he took his hands to his face. There was still a hint of her sunny flavor on them.

He felt dirty and low.

He felt human like never before.


	15. Not fair

_**Why are my Jane drabbles always so angsty?**_

**Jane POV**

They used to call her devil child.

They threw "witch" and rotten eggs after her. She tried to pretend she didn't care. And when she turned to glare at them they hid behind the next corner of a house.

She was the scary little human girl everyone hated and nobody loved.

Now they called her witch girl.

Now they feared her. They never dared to look at her and see her hollow red eyes. And whispered hurtful things when they thought she couldn't hear.

She was the scary little vampire girl everyone hated and nobody loved.

It was not fair.


	16. Birthday present

_**This is a drabble with the prompt "gift". More are coming soon.**_

---

**Didyme**** POV**

"I have a gift for you," he said.

She couldn't believe he was actually real. He looked too much like he did years ago. His hair was still the same raven color it was in the memories from her early childhood.

Only his eyes had changed. They were black and frightening and not green with funny golden freckles like she remembered.

It was her birthday that day, and he came back for her.

He had touched her hand lightly and it had felt unnaturally cold, sending icy chills down her spine. "I'm sure you'll have a gift for me too."


	17. Alec

_**An idea I had while writing on "Bittersweet". I'll probably also turn this into a longer story about Jane's and Alec's childhood.**_

---

**Jane**** POV**

He had been cheating, he had been stealing, he had been lying.

And when they caught him he refused to confess it.

His nose was still bleeding, but he was smiling at her. His upper lip swollen, his smile affectionate and kind.

"For you." And he gave her the neighbor girl's doll.

She had always wanted a toy so badly, but there had never been one. And now Alec had angered their father even more just for her to get one.

She hugged him, harder than she thought she ever could. And she held his small, dirty hand in hers.


	18. Gifted

_**Gianna's drabble. **_

_**Reviews and suggestions are always welcome! :)**_

---

**Gianna**** POV**

She wasn't gifted.

She wasn't strong, she wasn't talented. Her bronze skin didn't sparkle and her emerald eyes didn't gleam. Her hands were warm and her heart was beating, beating toward its inevitable end.

No, she wasn't gifted.

She was only human. And she wished to be one of them.

She wasn't gifted.

And when she could feel the last drop of precious blood being drawn from her cooling body it was too late.

She had been gifted.

And her precious gift, consisting of warmth and the beating of an honest heart, had gone to hell along with her soul.


	19. The Dance

_**New set of drabbles with the word "**__**smell".**_

---

**Marcus**** POV**

He could smell wilting roses, honeysweet lavender and musty ivy.

They were dancing on the polished parquet floor. _How ignorant and decayed they are,_ he thought. He didn't care. For all he knew they could have been dancing or fighting. There was no difference for him.

He could mesmerize her flowery, naïve smell. He savored the sunny, happy taste on the back of his tongue.

Oh, he had been happy. Happy and naïve.

Aro was smiling at him from across the room. And everything fell into place.

Rage was rising inside him, a feeling he hadn't felt in two millennia.

---

_**I NEED NEW WORDS TO WRITE ABOUT! Give me new words! Anything goes, really. It's just that whenever I pick a word myself I don't have any good ideas.**_


	20. Bonfire

_**Caius gets another drabble.**_

---

**Caius**** POV**

Thick smoke.

The strong, bitter smell of it burned his sensitive nose. It was sickly musky and earthy. Like the fresh earth dug up from a grave.

He tried to ignore the pain and rubbed his arms where they still stung. One of his sleeves was missing, he hadn't been able to reattach that as well.

The flames were blazing much brighter now and more foul smoke formed. It was rising high up into the sky, a final declaration of his victory.

With a satisfied smile on his pale lips, he watched the miserable remains of an entire species burn.

---

_**Reviews make me happy. They do.**_

_**(A/N: In case you were wondering: Caius didn't set Volterra on fire. He is barbecuing werewolf.)**_


	21. The Twins

_**This one is about Aro and the two most precious jewels in his collection, the witch twins.**_

---

**Aro**** POV**

He knew it when he first laid his milky eyes upon them.

They were only about five, but their black eyes, the way they seemed so very different from other children, drew him closer.

Their smell.

The little boy and girl walking through the forest hand in hand would become devastatingly powerful one day, he knew.

The boy's scent was the one of spring flowers and cold water mixed with sage. His twin sister smelled similar, but her lavender fragrance was much more potent.

He could taste the enormous power and talent in the mouthwatering smell.

He would be watching them.

---

_**Yes, Aro looks like a creep in this one. But he's still my favorite.**_


	22. Waiting for Death

_**New set of drabbles with the word "**__**angel".**_

_**And yes, I've realized I've never done a Felix POV so far! (gasp)**_

---

**Felix**** POV**

There was so much pain. Pain and blood, and breathing was incredibly hard.

So much blood.

He tried to stand it like a man, did his best not to whimper like a girl while he waited for death. Because death would not wait long to come and claim him.

And then he could see blurry feet and dark cloaks on the wet cobblestone pavement.

The angels had come to collect him, the bloody, mangled mess he was, lying in the dark alley.

Or did he deserve to go to hell?

He felt something cold on his wrist. The pain intensified.

---

_**My version of how Felix was changed.**_


	23. Black and White

_**Corin, who's Corin?**_

_**One of those characters that are never even mentioned and offer you countless possibilities. ;)**_

---

**Corin**** POV**

They come to deliver justice. They come to punish the ones who break the law.

They always do.

There are only two colors: black and white.

There are the ones following the law.

There are the ones who don't. Thus, the law claims them.

And there are the avenging angels. They don't belong in either category. They deliver justice, they punish the ones who break the law, but they don't always follow their own rules.

He is one of them.

He pulls his grey hood deep over his grave face and lines up with the others.

And watches justice unfold.

---

_**Reviews?**_


	24. Aro

_**I think my computer died. -.- As a result, this drabble **__**was shamelessly written at a computer at my school library.**_

---

**Sulpicia**** POV**

He is one of those angels.

Evil or good?

He is enthralling and magnetic, and she knows that she will never unravel even just a fraction of the mysteries he veils himself in.

She fell in love with his smile, his sharp features framed by the night black angel hair. Or she was captured by it, at least.

He is honest and kind, just like an angel.

But does he really speak his mind?

Sometimes the feeling that she doesn't know him at all in the end creeps over her.

And sometimes looking at him sends chills down her spine.

---

_**And I put some links on my profile to show what I pictured the Volturi to look like. Because for me "movie-verse" and "writing-verse" can be quite different.**_


	25. Temper

_**Someone suggested 'pride' as a new word.**_

---

**Aro**** POV**

She glares at him furiously.

Though it couldn't have hurt her granite body, the disciplining slap in the face has hurt her pride.

He glares right back down at her, head raised high, his eyes blazing just as much as hers.

He detests her temper, her childish tantrums, as he likes to say.

She can't stand his superior, cruel fits of rage. Her thoughts, usually confusing and emotional, are very clear about that.

Jane and Caius. They loathe each other's temper with a passion.

_And yet they are so similar, _I think, smiling.

I would never tell them, of course.

---

_**Jane and Caius have more in common than they like.**_


	26. Hurt Pride

_**I have so**__** many different versions of the Volturi in my mind. "Evil Volturi", "creepy Volturi", "tragic Volturi", … I think all of these views show at some point in my drabbles. So Aro is not always the same Aro. That keeps writing fun. ;)**_

---

**Aro**** POV**

He justified what he did with the rules.

The rules that cannot be bent.

After all, it had been only for the best of everyone.

The empire had to be protected, and ensuring that had been his duty. Burden, in that particular case.

Because it had hurt him too, ripping those very same hands off that had given him sticky toys as a child, tearing that warm, contagious smile apart.

But he had to.

They had planned on leaving, abandoning the carefully built up empire, destroying his plan.

And maybe it had been a bit about hurt pride after all.

---

_**Writing these drabbles during class keeps me from falling asleep.**_


	27. Corruption

_**Wow, I kind of forgot about these drabbles… But I had this idea in my mind for quite a while now, so I decided to finally write it down.**_

---

**unknown**** POV**

What do years mean? Decades, centuries, millennia?

If you never change, never lose your flawless beauty, never grow up and never die, don't you always stay the same?

And still, smiles turned into scowls, yellow flowers were tossed into dark corners and somewhere on the way – nobody could recall anymore when exactly – justice was twisted and turned like a string, serving those who needed it to work in their favor.

If immortals don't change, what makes them forget that they were human once?

Arrogance. Decadence. Pride.

An empire built on it.

It didn't need a seer to predict the outcome.


	28. Justice

_**I decided to come up with a new prompt word: fire.**_

---

**Caius**** POV**

There is something Caius likes about fire.

Being an easily flammable vampire, he could be expected to fear it. But Caius does not.

There is something about fire, the way it smolders façades and turns pretenses into ashes, the way it burns down advantages and inequalities in a beautiful blaze.

Mortals and immortals, privileged or outcast, black-haired or with hair as white as snow, they are all the same when they crumble to black charcoal.

There is something Caius likes about fire.

It is the advantage it gives the disadvantaged as soon as they hold the torch.

Justice, at last.

---

_**Suggestions for n**__**ew prompt words and reviews are always really appreciated. :)**_


	29. Fire

_**Metaphors, metaphors. ^^**_

---

**Sulpicia**** POV**

The flames are beautiful to watch. Wild, untamed fire blazing up towards the dark night sky. Bright sparkles and treacherous warmth.

She is smart enough to stay away from them.

She is one for pretty metaphors, so if she wanted to wrap unsightly things in colorful words, she would say that a naïve child should never play with flames that always become uncontrollable at some point. And when they do, they are potentially devastating.

The smell of burnt wood, flesh and palaces is something she remembers all too well from her human years.

So she doesn't try to be fire.

---

_**This was actually inspired by a one-shot about Sulpicia I've been writing on for ages. It is almost finished, but still quite confusing and way t**__**oo long, and I just can't bring myself to finally edit and post it… o.O**_


	30. Dante's Nine Levels of Hell

_**Dante and his nine levels of hell.**__** According to his ideas, there is a different level of hell for every crime (regardless of the reasons behind the crime). There are nine levels of hell in total, the traitors are in the lowest.**_

---

**unknown**** POV**

Vampires go to hell.

The wrathful suffer in the fifth level of hell. It doesn't matter what got them there, doesn't matter if they just wanted to defend themselves. Just for once.

The heretics, the witches burn in the seventh level of hell. And it is not a question of whether they betrayed God or God betrayed them, they deserve to burn.

The traitors are frozen in eternal ice in the ninth and lowest level of hell. The punishment for protecting a whole way of living.

Vampires and sinners go to hell, even if they didn't have the slightest choice.

---

_**Just some rambling on hell, guilt and how most of the Volturi are actually only "evil" because of unfortunate circumstances**__**, not by choice. I think it could be from almost everyone's POV, but most likely Caius, Jane or Aro's.**_


	31. Frost

_**I still haven't finished all of my requested one-shots from the Volturi fanfic contest! o.O Well, they are almost finished, but I never seem to be able to **__**get off my lazy butt and edit and upload them. **_

_**I**__** finally finished OstentatiousNature's request (she wanted something with Jane and snow). I decided to write something for both Alec and Jane and snow, but in the end the drabble form seemed more fitting and I turned it into a "drabble triptych".**_

_**Here is the first part:**_

---

**Alec**** POV**

Alec always liked snow.

When he was a little boy, every rare, delicate snowflake was precious to him. He used to hold them on his palm, watched them melt away, the frosty cold numbing his small fingers.

Now they don't melt anymore on his pale skin, their temperatures are perfectly matched. And the numbness is different too.

The white flakes are falling densly.

The numbness is always there now, whether it expands like glazed frost or freezes to a solid, lonely ice crystal.

And sometimes it makes him feel like he is the only one left on this godforsaken earth.


	32. Winter's Tale

_**Argh, I can't find my ol**__**d finished drabbles anymore! I think I deleted them by accident... o.O**_

_**... well, just have a new one instead.**_

**Jane**** POV**

Jane had always hated snow.

The way it refused to melt on her porcelain skin, the way it clung to her short, thin hair... just to vanish as soon as she walked into a warm room.

It was infuriating, really.

Jane hated the snow's delicate fragility, she hated its translucent fluidity.

Most of all, she hated the way it could just appear and disappear again that easily, dancing from the dark night sky so carefreely and effortlessly, like a balerina that wasn't broken.

... and then, unnoticed by everyone, it melted away, leaving only a small trail of water behind.


End file.
